Hollow
by Riddle Payne
Summary: Dean's been back for ten months and won't speak to Sam unless it's necessary. Sam's going crazy, unable to reach Dean. With Dean back everything was supposed to get better, so why is Sam thinking it was easier without him? WARNING: *Wincest* *re-write
1. Hollow

**Warning: Wincest!!! If this isn't your thing then this isn't the story for you! rated- M for later chapters. Thanks for reading :)**

"Fuck" Sam hissed pulling another shard of glass from the large gash just below his rib cage. His hands shook as he dropped the bloody tweezers in the sink. _Where the hell was Dean?_ Sam snorted at his reflection. He knew where Dean was. At the bar down the street, probably in the john, fucking some bimbo in the back stall.

Sam clutched the edge of the sink and bit his lip. Tears slid down his face, _Dean has been back for ten months, ten fucking months, and he's spent more time finding easy lays then with me! Wiping his face he reassured himself it was the pain in his side that was making his eyes water and finished bandaging himself up. It looked like shit but he was used to it. Shitty cleanings, shitty stitching, shitty bandages, every cut leaving a gruesome scar because it wasn't treated properly but how are you supposed to stitch a cut on your lower back when you can't even see it? If Dean stuck around after they got back to the room maybe he would notice his brother was bleeding and needed his help. Maybe, that is, if he even cared._

Did he blame Sam? Had he really forgiven Sam for using his powers? Now that he was hunting again, living side by side with Sam, did he regret his sacrifice? Recently Sam had noticed that, when Dean thought he wasn't looking, he would stare at him with a pained expression. What was Dean thinking?

As Sam walked out of the bathroom the door opened. Dean looked up at him and froze. Sam hadn't put his shirt on. All his scars, all his cuts, bruises, scrapes were exposed. _Fuck! He'll see! _Sam snatched his shirt off the bed and swiftly put it on ignoring the screams of protest from his side. He looked back over at Dean who seemed to have turned to stone a look of confusion on his face. He looked as if he was debating whether Sam's busted up body was a figment of his imagination or actually real. He must have decided it was an illusion because he moved into the room and headed for the shower.

"Hey. Where have you been?" Sam asked knowing he wouldn't get a response, he never did. The shower was turned on and the bathroom door closed. Sam sighed, his chest ached, he felt alone, and he felt the way he had after Dean had died…hollow.

_ I can't do this anymore._

**Hey, Thanks for the reviews I'm having huge writers block. Sorry it's taken so long to update. let me know what you think!!!!**


	2. Let Go

**Hey everyone! Thanks for the reviews. Sorry it's taken so long to update. Hope you like where it's going. Let me know what you think! Thanks :)**

**WARNING: Wincest! If it's not your thing do not read this!!!**

Sam's eyes fluttered open at the sound of his name. He hadn't expected Dean to be sitting next to him and he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Damn it Dean!" He breathed rubbing his eyes and sitting up against the headboard, "What is it?" Dean leaned forward a little more causing light from the moon to illuminate his face. His features were contorted in confusion, pain, and lust?

"I'm sorry Sammy," Dean whispered reaching out and taking Sam's face in his hands, "I tried, I tried… But I can't, I can't anymore. When you're so close to me that all I have to do is reach out, It's not fucking fair!" He hissed resting his forehead against Sam's. Sam froze, _what the fuck is going on? What was Dean doing? _

When they were younger Dean had done stuff like this quite often, he'd always been a physically affectionate person with everyone. Whenever Sam had been upset or frightened Dean would move in close and place their heads together. When he did that Sam had been able to create his own little world inside his head, a world with just Dean and him.

_ When was the last time he touched me? Two days after he returned? Four? _Sam remembered how, on the day Dean came back to him, Dean's arms had felt wrapped around his waist. How he had instantly felt safe for the first time in what had felt like a lifetime. He closed his eyes and breathed in the smell that was so unmistakably Dean.

Hesitantly Sam reached up and gently pulled Deans face from his so he could look at him.

"What are you talking about Dean? What can't you do anymore? What do you mean you "tried"?" Dean shook his head and looked away. Taking Sam's hand in his he began to play with it, weaving and unweaving their fingers.  
"Ever since..… It's like I can't breath. I've tried everything but you, I only feel better when I'm near you. I swore to myself the day I got you to help find dad that I wouldn't give in to this. That I wouldn't try, but I can't anymore Sammy, I'm not strong enough anymore."

Dean crawled up Sam's body and straddled his hips so quickly Sam didn't have time to react. Wrapping his arms around his little brother's neck he whispered against Sam's ear, "I need you." The shock of having his brother in his lap and the intoxicating scent of Dean and motel shampoo tuned Sam into a statue. _What does he mean? He needs me? Like hell he does! This has to be the first time he's spoken to me in months! What does he mean by I need you?_

All the blood that had flooded from his body surged back into his limbs; He pushed Dean off roughly and got to his feet, "What the fuck are you doing?" He shouted pacing back and forth. Dean had moved to the edge of the bed and was sitting the watching him. He grabbed Sam's hand,

"Come on Sammy! Please!" Dean seemed back to his tuff guy self but he was looking at him with such desperation that Sam actually felt himself wavering. If he hadn't been in an overwhelming state of fury Sam might have stopped to acknowledge that what Dean was asking for was something _he_ had wanted since he was 14. This feeling of lust, of _love_, thatwasn't meant to exist between brothers had become so unbearable he had fled to Stanford in search of relief from the pain of wanting something he could never have. When he had agreed to go with Dean after Jessica's death he had told himself it was okay, he could rely on Dean to _never_ look at him like that.

"HAVE YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING MIND? WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?" Dean smirked at him,

"I'll show you," He reached out and grabbed the front of Sam's jeans and made to undo them. Pulling Sam's shirt up to reveal his surprisingly sculpted abs he ran his tongue along the line of muscle that made a v-line over his hips. Sam gasped and raised his hands to bury his fingers in Dean's hair but as Dean tugged on his zipper he came crashing back to reality.

Sam recoiled backwards, falling hard on his ass. "What the hell Dean? We're brothers!" Sam struggled to get his pants done up again but the raging hard-on he now had was making it rather difficult, he struggled to hide the fact he was turned on by Dean's actions instead of repulsed.

Dean's smile was gone, replaced by the confusion, guilt, and rage, "I know that Sam, how the fuck could I not know that?" He yelled getting to his feet. "Yeah, we're brothers, we're family. But we aren't a normal family, are we Sam?" He moved forward and took Sam's face in his hands again, "I want you so bad Sammy," He reached down and cupped Sam's crotch through his jeans, "and I know you want me!" he whispered licking Sam's ear. Sam's breath hitched as Dean began to gently rub his erection. "Just let go Sammy, I love you. And you love me. Just let go." He whispered against Sam's cheek.

_ Fuck it!_ Sam had been so desperate for his brother these past months and here he was offering him everything he had ever wanted. They were already going to hell so fuck it. Sam grabbed Dean's face and slammed his mouth against Dean's lips. Their first kiss wasn't sweet and soft but passionate almost violent. They tore at each other's clothes trying to get closer to each other, to feel more.


End file.
